Sick With Anger Or Something Of The Like
by increak96
Summary: Ghirahim is sick, and it's hard to stalk a pesky skychild when you have the sniffles! But what happens when Link finds out? Can the goodhearted hero leave Ghirahim to suffer alone? I think not!
1. Symptoms

**A\N: Don't worry, guys, I haven't forgotten about Fabulous! I just needed some short stories to cultivate my thinking! Sadly, this has no Shaika or Kanji, so Ghirahim is all alone in his evil endeavors.**

**This is not shonen-ai or yaoi, but if you are a big fan of GhiraLink, I guess it would look like it to you. I call it friendship, you call it romance... whatever floats your boat, I guess.  
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**I don't own anything! (But you guys know that)  
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**ENJOY!  
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* * *

"Ug…"

Yes, that was the first thing to leave the fantastical demon's mouth when he woke from a long, restless night of next to no sleep. Second was a cough, third an undesirable word, and fourth a sneeze—though that very much came from his nose rather than his mouth.

"My head…"

Slowly, Ghirahim sat up, placing his palm against his forehead and squeezing his eyes shut in an attempt to alleviate the throbbing pressure behind his sinuses. His skin was hot, but he felt as though he needed to wear seven more layers.

Slapping himself in an attempt to seize consciousness, he toppled out of bed and made his way to the bathroom, mumbling to himself incoherently. Turning on the faucet, he thought back to the previous day.

He had fought the skychild in the Fire Sanctuary, revealed a bit of his true form, left the battle, and… well, his throat had been a little sore and a slight headache had set in, but that was nothing notable. He was always working, rarely got enough sleep, and was constantly yelling at his servants. A little pain here and there was to be expected, but he never thought he would wake up feeling like he had been run over by Goron!

He splashed water over his face and shut off the flow, drying his hands before looking in the mirror. He frowned at the redness around his nose and ran his fingers under his eyes, which were slightly puffy and showed horrible lack of sleep.

"I have absolutely no desire to stalk the skychild today. _No. Desire_."

But it wasn't really optional, was it? So he got dressed and ready for his day while keeping his complaints to himself.

_Ridiculous. You would think the skychild himself would get sick every now and then. And give me a break from all this blasted work!_

Ghirahim sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as he stormed past his moblins, subconsciously satisfied with the fact that they cowered in fear of him.

_Now stop thinking like that, Ghirahim. You're doing this for Master—that's the important part._

He came to the door of his castle and glanced behind him, casting a nasty glare at the blundering creatures. "Well?" he roared. "Don't just stand there! Clean this castle, gather my books, do my laundry, cook dinner, feed the prisoners, and for goodness sake's get that carcass off the floor!"

The bokoblins exploded into action, and Ghirahim threw his hand up, snapping his fingers and disappearing in his signature shroud of diamonds.

When the smog cleared, Ghirahim found himself flat on his back in the sands of Lanayru. He panted heavily, holding a hand over his eyes and lying still for a while, black spots floating over his vision. A deep ache permeated his being, and sweat trickled down his face, through shudders still ran their course through his body.

"I really… really am sick, aren't I? How unfortunate. One thousand, three hundred and ninety-five years of health, and I decide to get sick during this crucial time period…"

He let his thoughts trail, forcing himself to his feet and beginning his trek across the sands. He knew where the flames the boy was searching for were, but since he did not have the sword, it did him no good to hunt them down. And honestly, when it was so perilous to arrive at their locations, why would he bother? Link would be back on the shores of the Sand Sea soon enough, and Ghirahim could easily wait there for him.

* * *

Perhaps 'soon enough' was an understatement. Not that it was necessarily a bad thing. After all, when one is as sick as a remlit, one doesn't mind waiting two to three hours for the arrival of another. They are free to sleep in the shade and attempt to ease their now excruciating, migraine-like headaches without any interruptions.

Ghirahim sighed heavily, sniffing through congested passageways as Link darted past his hiding place, the typical expression of determination pasted onto his face. Ghirahim was not quite certain what it was he was looking for, as he already had the flame, but he figured there was no harm in tailing him.

_What are you up to, skychild?_

Link continued into a cave-like structure, and from there, he moved towards a small crawl space opposite the door he had just come through. Ghirahim approached, curiosity telling him to get closer. He crept towards the boy, fighting off the tickle in his throat and moving through the shadows as Link's feet disappeared down the tunnel.

Crouching down, Ghirahim watched the boy move, smirking slightly as he hit his head on a low rock.

_How cute._

He raised his hand to snap his fingers but stopped.

_Oh… perhaps that is not the best of plans. Especially considering last time…_

He cocked his head at the hole and bent down a little lower.

_Still, there is no possible way I can fit._

Sighing and preparing himself for the worst, he snapped his fingers and held back a groan as pain seared through his body, burning his joints and muscles as his being was reformed on the other side of the wall.

Biting his lip, he grasped the stone wall next to him and let out a soft hiss, holding his aching chest.

"Ghirahim?"

Ghirahim's head snapped up, and he realized he'd been caught. Smiling wryly at the skychild, he leaned fully against the wall and leered. "Whoopsie-daisy, I suppose I've been caught." He flipped his hair out of his face, ignoring the fact that it stubbornly returned to its former position. "Shameful how long it took you, though. Just shameful."

Link drew his sword, approaching Ghirahim with anger lighting his sapphire eyes. "How long have you been following me?"

Ghirahim shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know. Perhaps ten minutes. Perhaps ten hours. If you don't honestly know, skychild, that is entirely on your shoulders."

Link brandished his blade and said no more, fully ready for a fight with the demon.

"Oh, please, I'm not wasting my time on you now. I'm here to gather information. Do you really think I have time to play with children?"

Link didn't seem surprised or angered by that statement, and Ghirahim narrowed his eyes.

_If I were well enough, you can bet I would be battling you, skychild. I would teach you a thing or two as well!_

Ghirahim cleared his throat to cover the cough that danced in his windpipe, begging for release. "Well, I suppose I'll be going since nothing particularly interesting is going on with you."

Link followed him with his eyes but made no move to stop him from leaving. Ghirahim raised his fingers level with his head and brought his fingers together, audibly grunting as the agony returned tenfold. He felt his feet land in the room over, and shortly afterwards, the rest of his body joined them on the floor as he sprawled out, coughing violently into his fist.

_D…dangit…dangit… goddess that hurts… p-perhaps I should have stayed in bed…_

He was so tired… so, so tired… There was not a coherent thought in his mind. All he wanted to do was sleep and never move again. There were no thoughts about the disgrace of him lying on the floor, no thoughts about skychildren being just a room over and probably able to hear him, no thoughts about his Master, no thoughts about the Spirit Maiden, no thoughts about anything but sleep.

"G…Ghirahim?"

Ghirahim shut his eyes, vaguely connecting that voice with Link's face, but unable to make any further assessments or respond. Sleep… he wanted sleep…

"Fi, any advice?"

"My calculations indicate he is sick."

Ghirahim could have laughed. No honestly, if he weren't so tired, he could have laughed. He almost pitied the hero for having a sword without about as much usefulness as a bokoblins.

"Ah… thanks. I'll just…"

Just what? He'll just what? Why was his voice going away? And the image… why couldn't he see the wall anymore? It was all black… black and empty and… tired… he was so tired…

Unable to fight any longer, Ghirahim surrender his body to the black.

Link sheathed his sword as the demon lord blacked out, and he knelt by the side of his enemy, a small sense of worry forming in his gut. Link was a gentle spirit by nature, and he hated to see anyone in pain—even Ghirahim.

"Fi, if I were to hide Ghirahim, where would be the best place to do it?"

"Taking into consideration his condition and motives and your convenience and mission, the best place to conceal him is the northern sector of Faron Woods near Skyview Temple."

Link nodded, a grin parting his lips. "Sounds good." Reaching out, he slid an arm under the demon's shoulders and another under his knees, picking him up off of the ground and walking towards the exit.

"Master, if I may inquire, what exactly is the purpose of this act?"

Link was still grinning as he glanced at the fallen being in his arms. "Everyone deserves compassion, Fi. Even people like Ghirahim."

"Master, there is a 99% chance there is a very large part of you that wants to see him sick for the sake of, as your modern slang titles it, payback."

Link nodded, spying the bird statue in the distance and picking up speed. "There's that, too."

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**A\N: Yeah, I know. It's not that great, but hey it's just a first chappie it's allowed to fail a little bit, right? Augh, please review and don't kill me. *hides***


	2. Fever

**A\N: Yay! Another Chapter! Coming up Next: Chapter 15 of Busy Boy - 'Babysitting'. Look for it later this evening!**

**Enjoy the fluff and the slightly OOC Link. :)**

* * *

Ghirahim's eyes fluttered open, and he found himself staring up at a ceiling made of sanded oak. He frowned, realizing this was neither the cave nor his castle. Groaning, he looked around the room to get more of an idea on where he was.

The floorboards were made from the same tree as the ceiling, and the walls were painted a dark, forest green. Several maps, sketches, charts, and paintings hung on the walls, and a cluttered desk was just a couple feet away from his head, a Hylian shield hanging from the chair.

Wait. A Hylian Shield?

_Oh, no…_

"Good morning, Ghirahim!" the door swung in and Ghirahim stared in a mix of horror and fury at the cheerful human standing before him with his hands on his hips. "You passed out in the caves of Lanayru, and I thought I'd do you a favor and bring you somewhere more comfortable."

Ghirahim growled, though it sounded rather pathetic because of his congested sinuses. "Great, and now that I'm awake, I'll just be goi—ACK!" Ghirahim went to get up, but was jerked back down by something wound around his neck. "Wh-what?"

"I thought you might try to pull something like that, so I took a couple precautions to keep you here until you're nice and healthy."

Ghirahim's eye followed a silver chain to where it fastened to the bedpost, and then reached his hands up to his throat and slipping his hands into what felt like a collar. A… collar.

"Release me this instant, skychild!" he shouted, glaring at the boy with a hatred he hadn't felt in many a century. How dare this insolent mortal restrain him like an animal? How _dare _he?

"Nope." Link rocked back on his heels, a satisfied grin on his face. "You are staying right here until I've decided you're healthy enough to be on your own."

"Let me go! Now!" Ghirahim demanded, eyes flashing.

Link shook his head and pointed towards the foot of the bed. "By the way, your feet are shackled, too."

Ghirahim paled slightly, staring at Link with his jaw on his chest. He struggled to find something to say, but what _could _he say? The skychild had captured him, tied him, and was now proceeding to anger and humiliate him. What was there to say in a situation like this?

"W-well… well…"

Link smirked at him, obviously enjoying his enemy's torment. "Well?" he pressed.

"Well… I'll think of something!" Ghirahim pulled his fist to his mouth and started coughing, unable to suppress the tickle his recent shouting had created. He groaned, taking in a quick gasp of air before the spams returned tenfold, making his chest rattle with each hack.

Ghirahim jerked as Link approached him, but he was simply too sick to do anything to stop him. Link slid his arms under Ghirahim's and lifted him up slightly, pushing him back against the headboard and grabbing a pillow, gently pressing it to the demon's chest. Ghirahim felt relief instantly, and wrapped his arms around the pillow and holding to himself.

Link shifted slightly and rubbed the demon's bare back, and Ghirahim slowly stopped.

"Wh…where are my clothes?" he asked, furious with how hoarse his voice sounded.

"They're somewhere around here."

Ghirahim glared half-heartedly at him, sniffing.

"Adorable." Link stepped away from the bed and seated himself at his desk, pulling out a notebook and beginning to write. "How's your head?"

Ghirahim growled, crossing his arms over his chest and looking away.

"Ghirahim, that was a question."

He shifted slightly, happy to find he was still wearing his pants. Especially considering he didn't wear underpants beneath them. What? He had to make sure there were no lines—his outfit had to be completely seamless.

Ghirahim jumped as a hand suddenly seized his chin, forcing him to look up at his 'caretaker'.

"Ghirahim, if you don't answer me right now, I'll—"

"You'll what?" the demon snarled.

Link looked surprised for a moment, but then placed his free hand on the hilt of his blade, the weapon shimmering beneath his grasp. "You really want to know?"

Ghirahim sighed, averting his eyes. Being stubborn wasn't really worth getting cut up, was it? As much as he hated to admit it, he couldn't do anything to Link in this state. He was too w…w… He was too the 'w' word.

"My head feels like it's about to explode," he mumbled.

Link nodded, releasing his face. "You feel like you've been lying in the sun all day. Are you cold?"

Ghirahim nodded wearily, dropping his head back against the headboard. Link scratched his chin for a moment and then got up, walking over to his cupboards and half-crawling inside to dig through the contents of the cluttered space.

Ghirahim watched him with mild curiosity, sticking his bottom lip out and straining to see around the hero. Finally, he emerged, holding a dark blue tunic with long sleeves.

"Here, this'll keep you warm," he said, approaching Ghirahim with the clothing article.

"Not on your life," Ghirahim growled, turning his nose up and looking away.

"Wanna bet?"

"Yes, I—AH!"

Link shoved the shirt down over Ghirahim head and unhooked and rehooked the chain before Ghirahim had the chance to register what was going on. Then Link grabbed his arm and forced it through the first sleeve, despite Ghirahim shouts and struggles, before moving onto the second one.

Ghirahim pulled the appendage as close to himself as he possible curling up slightly to prevent Link from reaching it.

"Ghirahim, give me your arm!"  
"No!"

"Now!"

"I won't!"

"You better!"

"Or what?"

"You'll find out if you don't give me your arm!"

"Prove it!"

"Prove what?"

"It!"

"GIVE ME YOUR ARM!"

"NEVER!"

Ghirahim panted, swallowing hard beneath the collar which was nearly choking him. Link glared viciously at him from where he sat straddling his hips, and he held out his hand, his other fist currently holding Ghirahim's collar.

"Give. Me. Your. Arm."

Ghirahim frowned, swallowing again and finding it increasingly difficult to breathe. Slowly, begrudgingly, hatefully, painstakingly he surrendered his arm. Without breaking eye contact, Link snatched it up with a frustrated. "Thank you."

Finally, Ghirahim was dressed in the sapphire tunic, and Link pulled it down to his thighs, tying a loose sash around it to help trap the demon's body heat.

"Now that _that's _over, I'm going to get a thermometer. You stay here."

Ghirahim sighed heavily, blowing his bangs out of his eyes, and Link left the room.

_Well this is just peachy. I'm sick, I'm tired, and I'm trapped in a room with that blasted skychild! And now he's going to get some… thermowhatever to do who knows what to me._

Ghirahim stopped, feeling a sneeze coming on, and he looked around for a tissue or napkin. There was a box of them on the desk, but there was no way Ghirahim could reach them with his neck restrained the way it was.

"Alright, I'm ba—why do you look like that?"

Ghirahim closed his eyes, wrinkling his nose and fending off the urge to sneeze. He heard Link chuckle, followed by footsteps, and then a soft kleenex was pressed to his nose.

"A-CHOO!"

Ghirahim wiped his nose and glanced around for a trash can. Link planted one beside the bed, and Ghirahim dropped it in, watching the skychild warily. Link produced a small glass rod with a metal tip and sat on the edge of the bed, looking at Ghirahim expectantly. He got a stare in return.

"Well? Open up."

Ghirahim frowned, sliding away. "My mouth?"

Link nodded slowly, holding up the rod again. "Uh, yeah. Thermometer? Temperature? _Mouth?"_

Ghirahim let out a sharp bark, shaking his head. "Me letting you stick that thing in my mouth? Oh, that's a good one! Tell me another, skychild."

Oh, how Ghirahim loved to see that frustration on his face! The way his eye twitched and his lips curled up into a scowl. Being sick didn't have to be all bad, did it?

Unfortunately, his victory was short lived, because Link had a retort all set and ready to go. "That's fine. You won't open your mouth, I'll just stick it in the other end."

Ghirahim paled, squirming slightly as Link lowered the blanket and hiked up the tunic. "You don't mean…?"  
"You bet your bad fashion taste I do."

"Hey!" Ghirahim shouted, both because Link had insulted his fashion taste and because Link had reached his pants. "Fine, I'll open my mouth."

Link shook his head. "Nope, too late for that."

"Skychild!" Ghirahim exclaimed, twisting away from his hold and reaching down to grab the hero's wrists. "Don't you dare!" he coughed out, clearing his throat in an attempt to remove the itch.

"I will."

"Don't!"

Link paused, and Ghirahim cursed himself for the slight hint of desperation that had found its way into his voice. But honestly, who wanted a glass stick up their—nevermind.

"Hmm… I guess I _could _soothe my hurt feelings if you said that magic word."

Ghirahim glared, slowly releasing his wrists. "You cannot be serious!"

"As the Imprisoned."

Ghirahim coughed, weighing the two options in his mind. Which was more humiliating? Please or… that? Well that would depend. Was Link going to make him say 'pretty please with evil on top'? Or would he be satisfied with the bare minimum?

"P…" Ghirahim sighed, rolling his eyes and trying again. "Pl…pl…"

"I'm waiting, Ghirahim." Link smirked, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Just give me a second, this isn't easy!" he snapped, feeling his cheeks redden at his predicament. "Use my mouth… ple…plea…se…" He squeezed his eyes shut and gathered all of his strength, deciding to just get it over with. "Please!" he blurted out.

There were a few seconds of silence, and then Ghirahim forced himself to open his eyes. Link was smiling widely and gave him a nod of approval.

"Sure thing, Ghirahim."

The hero righted Ghirahim's clothing and sheets and then moved towards his mouth, pushing the metal end of the rod between his lips. "Under your tongue."

Ghirahim followed the instruction as best as he could, all the while mumbling under his breath about 'indignity of it all' and 'stupid skychild' and 'getting sick was straight from the pit of Hell' which technically speaking, it was.

"No talking."

The next minute or so went by in silence, and then Link removed the... object from his mouth and read it, clicking his tongue and shaking his head.

"105.2. That's not good at all." Link placed the stick on the desk and moved back towards his cupboards, once again looking for something.

Ghirahim sighed heavily, sliding down into the mess of cotton and fluff.

"You really don't feel well, huh?"

Ghirahim nodded sleepily, awareness slowly slipping from his grasp. The bed sank next to him, and Ghirahim's eyes fluttered long enough for him to see Link with a small cup.

"Here, open your mouth again."

Ghirahim did so, instantly regretting it because Link dumped the contents into his mouth and jerked his head back, forcing him to swallow. Ghirahim shuddered visibly, gagging and coughing.

"That's was repulsive!"

Link smiled, handing him a glass of milk. "It'll make you feel better, and it'll make you go to sleep."

Ghirahim drank down the whole thing and wiped his mouth on his sleeve, falling into the sheets with a few coughs and a shiver, blackness shrouding his vision.

"I don't need… potions… to sleep…"

Ghirahim felt a hand run through his hair, pushing his bangs out of his eyes. Goosebumps formed on his arms, and he shook, letting out a soft moan of pleasure.

"Sleep tight, Ghirahim."

He welcomed the black.

* * *

Link smiled slightly as Ghirahim drifted off, never once allowing his hand to stop its meticulous path through the silky white locks. A congested wheeze passed the demon's lips, and it was obvious he was being plagued by discomfort even in the subconscious.

_Poor guy…_

Even though Link was delighted Ghirahim was getting a little taste of his own medicine, he felt sympathy for him. No one liked to be sick. It was draining, it was icky feeling, it was painful. It was a universal hate.

"Master, is your revenge extracted?"

Link smirked slightly, his lips turning upward. "Not quite. I still have to hear one thing."

"And what one thing is that, Master?"

Link chuckled softly, tucking the demon in and turning out the light, igniting a single candle to write by. "You'll see."

* * *

**A\N: Isn't having your hair stroked when you're sick the BEST? OMG I love it. :D  
**

**Please review! I hope y'all liked it!  
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	3. Take Your Medicine

**A\N: I feel like... I hate this chapter and I didn't beta it at all.**

**Oh, wait. **

**I DO hate this chapter and I DIDN'T beta it at all. Whoopdy-doo. *headdesk***

**On the bright side, we're only on chapter three and I already have 27 reviews! You guys are awesome! Cookies all! Normally I do mentions, but my computer has been driving me insane, so I will have to save those for another day.**

**On another note: I made a sort of fanpage thing for my stories on facebook! You can view fanart, post ideas, critiques, get sneak peeks, and some other stuff, too! There is currently no fanart for this, and I would draw some stuff myself, but I have the gift of words, not pencil so... I'm sorry! I just can't. It'd be stick figures! :(**

**Anyways, I hope y'all enjoy and feel free to like the page and check out what I have posted there! Thanks! I don't own a thing! Enjoy!**

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**Ghirahim's POV** (Yes, it's been a while since I did First Person POV, so... WHEE!)

It had been at least two days since I was kidnapped by the skychild and brought to this filthy little hovel tucked away somewhere in Faron. Two. Days. It was pure torture spending all of my time chained to a bed like some beast to be gawked at, and even worse was the fact that the skychild himself was the gawker!

_This blasted little pit… It will be the first to burn when I revive my master and take over the Surface at his side._

Yes, that's what I was thinking when I saw it.

Bam.

There it was.

The key to my escape.

Literally. The skychild had left the key right there on the desk.

I stretched out my arm, grunting as the rough leather scratched my tender throat, opening the sores that had formed there sometime during the night. My fingers brushed the edge of the desk, and my middle finger was less than a centimeter away from the key. It was killing me! Honestly! But, being the patient demon I am, I took a deep breath and stretched again, hearing a loud crack as tension left my body for a brief moment.

_Oh, that actually felt good._

Reaching just a few inches further, I managed to curl my middle finger around the loop, and my index finger followed, pulling the key firmly into my grasp. Ah, how sweet the taste of victory.

Quickly, I unlocked the collar around my neck, tossing it over my shoulder and throwing my blanket off. I unshackled my feet and jumped up, grabbing my head as dizziness darkened my vision and almost forced me to the ground.

I stood very still, waiting for the dizziness to clear, and then I ran for the exit, stopping only when I spied a full-length mirror in the corner.

_Oh, my! Why… this tunic does wonders for me. So… playful and attractive—if only it weren't the skychild's and—_

I slapped myself lightly, shaking my head and opening the door, surprised to find a hall beyond it. And here I had thought I was in a little one room shack! But this thought was not exactly an encouraging one. After all, this meant there was a possibility the skychild was still present.

I took a deep breath and held it, sliding along the wall and glancing to my left and right before darting past an open doorway and out into what looked like a family room with a small kitchenette attached. It was all rustic, and had an earthy glow about it. Warm and somewhat closed, with animal furs and a large fireplace with a polished mantel above. Even if I hated the hero, I had to compliment his exquisite taste in home interior.

Letting out the breath I had been holding, I drew in another one to hold and inched towards the door with one last glance around the small space. I was good to go.

Opening the front door, I dashed out into the wood, making a dead run for… awayness. I didn't much care for where I was going. Once I was collected and stable, I could teleport to wherever I wished to go, but until then, I just wanted to be away from the skychild. Far, far away from the skychild.

* * *

**Third Person POV** (It will be TPPOV from here on out)

"Master, Ghirahim's presence is no longer in the building. He is heading due north, and he is regaining strength."

Link chuckled softly, whittling a small stick in his hands, carving something with the utmost focus and delicacy. "I know."

Fi was no one to question her master. She was a being of facts and analysis, and she did not often have opinions, but this set of events was confusing to her.

"Master, my analysis and your conclusion are of contradictory nature. If an explanation is not too bothersome, it would be much appreciated by my intelligence."

Link smiled, putting down the knife and wood and getting to his feet. "He's sick, Fi. He'll tire out in maybe… fifteen minutes. And I'm not, so I can easily catch up. After all the things he's put me through, this is what I like to call 'Justice' or… 'a taste of his own medicine'."

Cracking his back and rolling his shoulders, Link took his blade in his hand and walked out of the bedroom, taking off in the direction Fi had calculated.

He couldn't help the nagging feeling in his stomach, though. In his humanity, he couldn't help but worry about Ghirahim. He was sick, without weapons, without magic, alone in a woods that looked so innocent on the surface, but held many wild animals and worst of all… a vicious water dragon with a fetish for manners and no mercy for demon lords.

With that thought in the forefront of his mind, he picked up speed.

* * *

Ghirahim leaned against a nearby tree, doubled over and coughing as he held his aching side. He heard the wings flutter again, and fire lit his eyes. He could sense her… feel her somewhere near him.

_Faron, I swear… when I am back at full strength…_

He let the threat trail off as he tentatively walked out of the shadow of one tree and into another, his eyes peeled for the dragon that had assaulted him not a mile from the house he had left behind.

"Dragon, I am just taking a walk. Mind your own business for once!" he snapped, darting into the shelter of more foliage while scanning the surrounding area for his scaly, blue foe. He could see the evidence of her all around. We t, drooping trees, claw marks, bite marks, the bend over grass from where her tail had fallen during take-off. But where was she _now_?

He dashed into a shrub and crouched down, watching through the leaves for Faron to show herself, but she did not. He scowled, listening closely and hearing the distinct sound of her breathing. But why couldn't he see her?

"Ah!" Ghirahim shouted in surprise as a tail wrapped around his ankle and whipped him into the air, knocking his head against the hard ground.

Faron's resounding chuckle, echoed through the lands, and Ghirahim glared at her from his humiliating and awkward position.

"And exactly what is so amusing about this?" he snarled, crossing his arms over his chest. "Put me down. _Now_."

"Ho? Is that any way to speak to a divinity?"

"If you do not release me now, witch, I will—"

Faron's tail whipped out and uncoiled as he flew, indeed releasing the demon and allowing him to slam full-force into a large tree. Letting out a muffled shout through clenched teeth, he collapsed to the ground, still holding his side.

"Why you…" he growled, pulling himself to his feet. However, as soon as he began to put his weight on his right leg, pain seared through the limb and he crumpled to the ground, shutting his eyes and gasping in pain.

He heard the dragons wings—or rather, now that he noticed it, magic—as she approached, and he desperately racked his brain to think of a way to escape. He couldn't teleport, he couldn't run, there was no hiding places close enough to crawl to, and he had no weapons or projectiles.

For the first time in his life, he was without defense, and he wasn't… he wasn't quite sure what to do with that. He felt something like fear start to travel up and down his spine, tightening his chest and throat. Yes, fear.

_I am not afraid of this glorified salamander!_

"Woah, woah, Faron! Your majesty, please wait!"

Ghirahim's heart jumped slightly, and he scolded himself for it, but looked for the skychild nonetheless. Link came running down the path, waving his arms at the dragon as he closed the distance between them. Faron looked at him curiously, and he quickly ran over to her, explaining the situation.

"Sorry about this Faron, he's sick right now and staying with me. He couldn't hurt anything if he tried; he doesn't even have his magic! I'll get him out of your forest as soon as he's better. You have my word."

Ghirahim sputtered. "_Her _forest? This is _my _forest!"

"Ghirahim!" Link whirled, giving him a dangerous look. "Shut. Up."

Ghirahim remained silence, but more from shock than obedience. He was certain he had never seen the skychild quite so serious or angry before.

"I'll get him out, I swear."

Faron glared at Ghirahim for a long time, but then looked at Link and nodded reluctantly. "Very well. You have proven your worth on many accounts, so I trust you. No more than two weeks, understand? This isn't a nursery—especially not for him."

Ghirahim was tempted to stick his tongue out, but that look Link had given him was still burned into his mind, and he decided against it.

Faron left without another word, and Link turned to him, a frustrated expression on his face as he walked over. Ghirahim grinned slightly, tossing his hand in a quick wave.

"Perfect timing, skychild, how prompt of you. Now, it appears I am unable to walk, so why don't you get to carrying me back now, hmm?"

"No."

Ghirahim frowned, cocking his head to one side. "No? _No?_"

"That's what I said."

Ghirahim glared at him, straightening up slightly. "May I remind you, skychild, just because I am sick now I am still going to kill you eventually. Whether I heal on my own and kill you or let you take care of me and kill you is entirely up to you, but the former will end much more painfully for you. Now pick me up!"

Link glared down at him. "I said no." He turned in the direction of the house. "I'm going back to my cabin, and when you're better, you should get out of here as fast as you can or Faron really will have your head."

"B-but you can't just _leave _me here!" Ghirahim objected, watching him leave in a state just short of rage. "Get back here now!"

"No."

"Now, skychild!"

"No," Link sang, nearly out of sight now.

"Skychild, if you don't get back here—"

"Yes?"

Ghirahim snapped his fingers, slumping back against the tree in a huff. "I really need to work on that," he mumbled, having no answer for the hero.

"You know, maybe if you said 'please' and thanked me for saving your behind, I'd consider taking you back."

"What? That's ridiculous. I will do neither!" he shouted, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Okay, bye!"

And with that, Link continued down the path and Ghirahim let his façade fall a little, not liking the thought of spending the entire night and who knew how many nights after that in the open. But he wasn't about to give into Link's orders, either, so he curled up beside the tree and did his best to keep his leg still.

_I think it's broken…_

Ghirahim wasn't too worried, though. After all, this was _Link _he was talking about. How could any hero, in good conscience, leave someone to die? No. The skychild would be back and consent with his demands unmet.

* * *

Several hours passed, and soon enough, night fell. Ghirahim was still sitting alone under the tree, and the skychild had not returned as Ghirahim thought he would. The sharp pain in his leg had turned to a dull, aching throb and the limb had started to swell, making any and every motion a painful one.

_I… I suppose I could have thanked him. And maybe… maybe a small please wouldn't have hurt. I did it once already, right?_

But it was a little too late to speculate these things, now wasn't it?

Sighing, Ghirahim tried for probably the fourth time to get to his feet, but he only managed to move his leg a quarter of an inch before the pain drove him back to the dirt. Shivering, he obeyed it, wrapping his arms tightly around himself to fend off the cold.

_D…dangit… it hurts… a lot…_

It didn't help any that his side had been adhered to his tunic by the blood that had spilled from it during his run. Dragon claws were cruel and merciless things…

Ghirahim jumped as a branch snapped somewhere nearby, and he felt a slight twinge of panic. He refused to call 'who's there' just in case whoever was there didn't know _he _was there, but it was tempting all the same.

_You should have accepted his offer. Oh, come on, it's the skychild! You can me to be nice to _him? _At least then you'd live through tonight. Oh, shut up._

Ghirahim paused, shaking his head and groaning.

_Aaaand you're talking to yourself. Fabulous._

The bushes near his head rustled, and he inched away from them, hissing in pain when his leg was bent. Another soft rustle, and then the bush started to part, revealing—

"Skychild!" Ghirahim could have slapped himself for how relieved and pitiful he had just sounded. "Ahem, I'm glad you came to your senses."

Link said nothing, but leaned down and picked the demon up, throwing him over one shoulder and starting back towards the shack. Ghirahim grunted, reaching back to touch his lacerated side, which had been ripped open in the sudden motion.

"Don't be gentle or anything."

Once again Link remained silent, seemingly oblivious to the sarcasm or even that Ghirahim had spoken.

"Hello, skychild are you deaf?"

Still no response.

"Or perhaps mute?"

He was met with silence, and this time he kept silent for quite a while before finally shouting out.

"I've got it! You're an ignoramus—Ow!"

Ghirahim frowned, holding his leg as he recovered from the fall, looking up to see Link still walking. He glanced to his right and saw he was sitting on the porch to Link's house… so why wasn't Link taking him inside?

"Hey, I can't walk in you know, I—"

"I know. You still owe me a please and a thank you." And with that the door slammed, and Ghirahim decided it was time to once again get comfortable. If that was possible, anyways.

He lay down on his side, staring at the star-spangled sky with tired eyes as the pain began to course through his body again. Not to mention the fact that his throat hurt from all the coughing he had been doing, his nose was running, his chest was aching, and his head was starting to hurt. And there was still the matter of his side bleeding once again.

A cool wind picked up, and Ghirahim curled tighter, cursing under his breath as a raindrop hit his nose.

_Really? Really, that's what you're going with? Ugh…_

He shivered as the rain started to come down harder, quickly soaking his clothes. He frowned, looking at the door and considering surrender for a moment. Certainly sitting out in a rainstorm was something he could deal with—his master was the demon king—but he was sick and tired and in all honesty he just didn't _want _to.

"Sky—Link? Link?" he called, reaching up to the door and knocking on it. "Link!"

He waited a few moments, and the door slowly opened, revealing a bed-headed, sleepy-eyed hero.

"Um…" Ghirahim stopped, suddenly aware of what he was going to have to do to get in. "I wanted to say… thank… thank you for… helping me earlier. And I would… r-really… really like to come in, so…" He let it trail, hoping Link wasn't going to make him say it. He had said the thank you, right? And technically thank you was more than half of the bargain because it was two words!

"You want to come in?" Link looked around. "I dunno…"

"Do I _have _to?" Ghirahim asked pathetically, slouching. "Do I really, really have to?"

Link smiled, bending down and scooping Ghirahim up into his arms.

"I guess not."

Ghirahim grinned boyishly, and then promptly reprimanded himself for doing so. Link chuckled softly, shaking his head. "You hate yourself too much."

Ghirahim glanced up at him, traces of confusion on his face. His enemy just said he hated himself too much? Well, certainly he held himself to a higher standard, and he hated his traits of weakness that so accursedly showed up while he was trapped in this human form.

"Hey!" Ghirahim pointed to the doorway Link had just passed. "What are you doing, you passed it!"

Link laughed softly, but said nothing, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes the only clue Ghirahim had.

_Oh, dear, what has he got planned now…_

* * *

**A\N: Please review! Don't know why the bottom line here won't go away... *glares at irerasable line*  
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	4. Rubba Dub Dub

**A\N: Kuahahahah! It is up! Now, when you read the first couple paragraphs, NO DIRTY THOUGHTS PPL! XD You guys know me, it's not yaoi. And it never will be. EVER. Lolz! Putting a poll on my page to ask what should happen to Ghirahim next! If you have questions about an option, PM me and ask away!**

**Also, if you're likin' my stories, check out my FB fanpage where you can get updates, sneak peeks, view fanart, and all kinds of stuff!  
**

**Enjoy! I still don't own!  
**

* * *

Ghirahim paled when they entered the bathroom near the back of the house, but Link didn't seem to notice and continued walking to the large, circular, in-ground tub. While Ghirahim welcomed the warmth with open arms, he had to wonder why the skychild was brought here.

"You sit tight for a moment," he said, placing Ghirahim on the floor and gently positioning his broken leg as comfortably as possible.

Ghirahim nodded slowly. _He better not do anything kinky. That is _my _job._

Link walked out of the room, and Ghirahim hummed awkwardly, looking around the room with his hands situated on his lap.

It was spacious, and the tub was set in stones, almost like a pond more than a tub. A light smell of lavender wafted through the steamy room. Faron Wood plants were scattered here and there, and the room just had this overall sense of calm.

Link stepped in, a large bundle in his arms, and Ghirahim tossed him a smirk.

"Quite the bathhouse you have here."  
Link shrugged. "The worst hygiene in the world takes place in the Knight Academy. When I decided to make a home on the Surface a bathroom was one of the first things I planned." He put his cargo on the floor and unrolled some of it. "I got new clothes, bandages, and a few potions. I think there's a fairy in here, too."

Ghirahim nodded his head, glancing at the stuff and nodding with a somewhat impressed expression. "Fabulous."

And then there was an awkward moment of silence.

Ghirahim looked around with confusion and then turned back to Link. "Are you waiting for something?"  
"Just for you to be ready to get in."

Ghirahim glared. "Now wait just a minute, skychild! I may be injured but I am certainly capable of bathing myself!"

Link raised his eyebrows and cross his arms over his chest. "Oh, really?"

"Yes, really," Ghirahim insisted.

Link shook his head, rubbing his eyes tiredly. "Ghirahim, it's 2:15 in the morning, can you just cooperate for once?"

Ghirahim clenched his fists, growling low in his throat. He did not want to be treated like an invalid!

"I don't need your help!"

"Fine then, want my help or something like that, just stop being stupid."

"Not on your life skychild!" Ghirahim grasped the cabinet to his right and pulled himself to his feet. "I may be sick, and I may be injured, but don't think I'm at your mercy because—"

"I don't care what you're at, just let me help you!"

Ghirahim jabbed his finger into Link's chest, snarling. "I am not excepting help from some filthy, weak, goddess-serving—"

"Enough, Ghirahim."

"—lowlife, ignorany, _worthless _human bag of fle—"

Pain exploded over his left cheek, and his head snapped to the side, hitting the wall as he slid down to the ground, stars spotting his vision.

"I said _enough, _Ghirahim."

Ghirahim raised his gaze, light fingers brushed against his cheek. He blinked, blood trickling down his nose.

"Let me help you."

Ghirahim exploded, struggling to get to his feet again. "Help me? Let you _help me? _You chain me to a bed, force me to accept medical attention, put me on my knees at your feet asking for shelter from a goddess-forsaken thunderstorm, slap me in the face, utterly _humiliate_ me and then you want to help?"

The enraged scream seemed to echo off the walls in the silence that followed.

Link slowly stepped towards him and reached out, taking hold of the bloodied tunic and looking at Ghirahim as if asking for permission to remove it. The demon sighed, shaking his head and sinking back to the floor in defeat.

Link raised the tunic over his head and tossed it into the corner. "Earring?" he asked softly.

Ghirahim removed the jewel and allowed Link to place it on the counter, still fuming.

Link ignored it and pulled the demon to his feet, wrapping one arm around him and holding Ghirahim's arm over his own shoulder to give him some support. He turned his head aside, and Ghirahim glared at his blonde hair, realizing he was allowing the elder to strip with a small amount of privacy.

Sighing, he peeled off his wet, bloody, spandex pants and tossed them over where the tunic was.

"Alright."

Link slid his foot to the left until he reached the bathtub, and then moved Ghirahim towards it without looking over his shoulder. Ghirahim rolled his eyes and slid his left foot in, the rest of his body quickly following.

It wasn't that he was ashamed of his body—in fact, on any other day he could have loved to show his physique to the skychild. It was truly something to behold! But he was sick. And injured. And weak-looking. And in a situation where he was not in control, but rather _being _controlled.

"You in?"

Ghirahim nodded, throwing Link's hand away from him as he leaned back into the hot water and bubbles. Link opened his eyes and leaned a little over the edge of the bathtub, grabbing the shampoo bottle and squirting some into his hands.

"Ghirahim…" he started, digging his fingers into the demon's scalp and washing his off-white hair. He sighed, combing his bangs back out of his eyes so he wouldn't get soap in them. "Geeze."

Ghirahim scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest. "You are just full of insight and wisdom."

Link glared, dunking Ghirahim under the water without warning, sending a flood of liquid through his mouth and nose before he jerked him back up.

"Link!"

Ghirahim pinched the bridge of his nose, trying desperately to alleviate the burn. Link grabbed a cup and dipped it into the water, pouring it over Ghirahim's head as his free hand worked the soap out. Ghirahim kept his eyes, nose, and mouth shut, waiting for the process to be over.

"Well, I'm not sure what to say." Link grabbed the other bottle from the shelf, and Ghirahim wiped his eyes. "On one hand, I'm sorry for making you feel humiliated. On the other, I think it's good for you."

"Good for me?" Ghirahim moved to get up, but Link shoved him back down, massaging his head with conditioner and continuing.

"You may be a demon, and you may have magic, but you are not better than me, Ghirahim, and you think that you are."

"That—"

A sharp smack on his shoulder cut him off.

"Quiet, I'm talking." Ghirahim's jaw hit his chest. "I think being, as you call it, at the mercy of someone else will do you good and open your eyes to different perspectives. Perhaps in the future, I will have a different verdict, but for now, I will not apologize for anything that has happened to you since you got here." Link nodded affirmatively, and Ghirahim grit his teeth, anger boiling the blood in his veins.

"Or _maybe _the result of all this is me mercilessly tormenting you when I'm back to full health!"

Link dunked him under, but this time he was ready, and Link pulled him back up, his hair clean.

"I guess I'll pay for it then, won't I?"

"Yes, you will!"

Ghirahim fumed at the suds and bubbles that surrounded him, glaring furiously at them as if they were the cause for all his troubles. His heart pounded in his chest, his vision blurring as rage literally shook his body.

He felt Link's hands ever-so-carefully cleaning his hair, and he began to fight off the anger, a sense of calm coming over him as he tried to think about the situation rationally. He couldn't deny Link had been more than kind to him, but it was kindness that infuriated him so! Why couldn't Link just let him suffer?

Oh… well, now, that sounded dumb, didn't it? Especially when one considered the immense pain he was in at the moment.

_But he's my enemy!_ _I don't want his help! I mean, I don't _need _his help! W-well, I don't want it either, I'm just saying that I don't need it even if I did want it which I don't!_

Sighing, he dropped his head down, his anger finally receding to the far reaches of his mind. "L…Link…?"

"Yes, Ghirahim?"

He swallowed hard, shifting slightly. "My leg hurts."

"I know. It's broken, isn't it?"

Ghirahim nodded, fatigue sweeping over him now that the anger adrenaline was no longer supporting his body.

"Put it up here."

Link slapped the rim of the bathtub, and Ghirahim slid to the other side, lifting his leg up onto the stones. Link dried it gently and then examined it, scratching his chin for a few moments before placing one hand directly above the break and one hand directly below.

"Link…" Ghirahim said warily, cringing as he locked onto Link's train of thought.

"Relax. I had to do this after a big fall in Eldin." Link glanced up at him briefly, a boyish smile on his face. "Close your eyes."

Ghirahim did just that, hands gripping the mat at the bottom of the tub nervously.

_I don't like being in the dark._

He heard the rustle of Link's clothes, and he tried to relax, knowing tense muscles would increase the pain and make it more difficult for Link. He inhaled deeply and let out a long stream of air.

His exhale was abruptly stopped a sickening pop was heard and pain like burning fire seared through his leg, making him jerk and let out a soft shout, doing his best to restrain it. He bit his lip, letting out a few undesirables as the pain slowly faded, Link's hands gently moving over the wounded leg.

He reached back into the back and pulled out a bottle with a fairy. He released her and pointed to the leg, both of them watching as she swirled around it, working her magic.

The limb went completely numb, and then a cool, tingling sensation spread throughout the muscles, a sigh escaping his lips as something felt good for the first time in days. When she was done with her job, Link apologized for capturing her, and she gave a salute, flying away.

"Glad she had no hard feelings." Link nodded, watching her leave, and then turning back to Ghirahim. "Well, you can finish up now!"

Ghirahim nodded as Link moved towards the door.

"Soap's on the shelf and there's a rag and one of those mesh, scrubbie things, too."

Ghirahim gave another nod, waiting for him to leave and frowning at the funny way he was walking and talking.

"Yup. You're all clear to do it yourself!"

He was just about to ask what was wrong with him when a realization sank in, and he glared daggers at the boy in his pajamas, fury returning tenfold. "You could have healed my leg in the beginning, and I could have been doing this all along!"

Link threw his head back and laughed, running out the door and slamming it.

"Link, I am going to kill you! _Get back here now!"_

* * *

**Link's POV**

After Ghirahim finished cleaning up, he dressed in the clothing I had given him and headed off to bed, still as tired and ill-looking as ever. Now he was sound asleep, and I was sitting in the chair next to his bed, stroking his hair. That always seemed to comfort him for some reason, and since I have an addiction to doing things with my hands, I don't mind it at all.

The circles under his eyes are so dark. He must wear that purple make-up to hide it so he doesn't always look exhausted. I guess constantly searching for ways to make a demon come back from the underworld, or wherever his master is, takes a lot out of a guy.

There was still a red mark where my hand had hit him, and I would put money on the chances of some bruising appearing later in the week. I didn't even need Fi for that one. In a weird way it kind of made me feel… protective. Like maybe a good friend. Someone you protect, but have to knock the sense into every now and then.

"Master, has your revenge been extracted now?"

I smiled at Fi, who was both amused and puzzled by the way things were turning out. "Not quite."

"Master, if I may, you are running out of time. You have only two weeks, and if what has transpired thus far has not quenched your desires, you—"

"Trust me, Fi." I cut her off gently, putting a hand on her sleeve, as she had no arms. "I've got this."

"Very well, Master."

I yawned as she flipped into the True Master's Sword. It was 3:21 in the morning, and I had to get to bed.

"Goodnight, Ghirahim."

I got up and walked out, gently shutting the door behind me.

_He's really not half bad… when he's sick and tired._

* * *

**A\N: Review plz~! *heart*  
**


	5. Turn for the Worse

**A\N: _PLEASE READ:_ OKAY SO... Nothing on the polls really won. If you go and look at them, I believe it's two sixes, two fours, and a three. And technically the one four and the three are like the same thing, or one leads to another, so that's a... seven? That was stupid on my part to post them as separate. But anyways, I've decided to do them all! This chapter has the sickness worsening (which was a four) and the next chapter will have the sickness lessening (which was a six) the allowing Ghirahim to cause problems and be wailed on (which was also a six-I'm assuming you know that 'wailed on' means 'spanked') and then they will play games together and maybe have a cuddle\cry moment (which was the four and three combined) So yeah. I'm doin' it. XD I hope you all enjoy, please review, and... *blushes* Aww geeze I hate asking for art, but I would love to see sick Ghirahim with his hair all messy and his eyes tired and a cute little pouty face that makes you wanna hug him-unfortunately, I can't draw. No seriously, my STICK FIGURES look bad. :( So maybe... if one of you guys is exceptional with art... *lets it hang* If you don't that's fine! You come here to read, not to get begged to do stuff, that's totally okay! I was just curious and I thought okay gonna shut up now enjoy the story! *headdesk***

* * *

Ghirahim was sick.

He knew it the moment consciousness breached his mind and roused him from his sleep. He could feel it—without even moving, he could feel it. He could tell.

And this wasn't any sneezing coughing fever sick, no, he had been dealing with that for almost five days at this point. No, his stomach was churning in a way that only meant one thing.

"Link?" he called, ashamed at his congested, broken voice. His stomach lurched, and he panicked slightly, calling his name again. "Link!"

It had been at least two hundred and seven years since he had thrown up, and he not only forgot what to expect, but he couldn't remember how to stop it. He grit his teeth, holding a hand on his stomach and screwing his eyes shut.

"L-Link! I need you!"

He heard heavy footsteps in the hallway, and Link stumbled into the room, rubbing his eyes as he leaned against the doorframe.

"Ghirahim, it's 2:45, what do you want?"

Ghirahim suddenly realized what it was that was wrong, and it occurred to him that he probably didn't want the skychild to see him like that. Then his stomach lurched again, and that thought was gone from his mind. "I don't feel well."

Link raised his eyebrows. "Yeah, and you haven't for days. Your point?"

"No, I mean I _really _don't feel well." Ghirahim wrapping his other arm around his midsection, but Link just gave him a blank stare, not at all reading into his body language.

"What? You want another potion?"

"Link, I think I'm gonna throw up!" he blurted out, gritting his teeth as another wave of nausea swept over him.

Link startled awake instantly and walked over. "Why didn't you say so?" he rushed, grabbing the trash can and pulling Ghirahim into a sitting position. "Do you think you can make it to the toilet, or should I just give you this?"

"I-I don't know. It's been nearly two centuries since I've vomited, and I—" Ghirahim dropped his head, holding it in with every ounce of fight in him.

"Ghirahim, don't do that, it's bad for you."

Ghirahim moaned, pressing a hand to his forehead and whining. "I hate getting sick…"

"Everyone does, but it's perfectly normal. It's how your body rids itself of infection, and the more you hold it, the worse it's going to get." Link rubbed his back, positioning the waste basket between his knees and pushing his head down gently.

"It's so _embarrassing_." Ghirahim gripped the sides of the bin and took a deep breath of air, trying to calm his stomach.

"Hey, we've all done it, okay? There's nothing to be ashamed of, just do it." Link slid onto the floor and pulled Ghirahim with him, putting him in a less hunched over position. "Just open your mouth and let it happen."

Ghirahim shook his head, tears stinging his eyes as his mouth began to water. Link rubbed his back as he panted, his voice taking on a warning tone. "Ghirahim…"

The demon quivered, biting his tongue. He felt Link's lips move right beside his ear, and a soft whisper tickled his face.

"Ghirahim, you need to let it happen. It's gross, embarrassing, and frankly, kind of scary. But you need. To let. It happen."

Ghirahim slowly relaxed his muscles and leaned forward, gripping the bucket in clammy, sweaty hands. He gasped out a quick 'okay' and continue to pant, waiting for his stomach to rail again.

"Don't pant. Deep breaths."

Ghirahim did neither. He dropped his head down and released the contents of his stomach, retching into the bin uncontrollably as his stomach contorted. He felt Link's fingers snake through his hair, pulling his bangs back out of his eyes, and a hand traced soothing circles on his back.

He drew his head up for just a moment, taking a huge gulp of air before lowering it again.

"Shh, it's almost over," Link said comfortingly, reaching overhead for something. "Almost done, just hang in there."

Ghirahim finally finished and quickly fell back against the bed, panting heavily and closing his eyes. He could feel water on his cheeks and thick snot in a total mess over his face, but he didn't honestly care. It was over, at least for the moment, and he could breathe again.

"See? It's all over now."

Link gently cleaned his face with the tissues, clearing away the mess and tossing the used kleenexes in with yesterday's dinner. Ghirahim forced his eyes to open, and he blinked remaining tears away, looking at Link with a truly pathetic expression on his face.

"I h-hate throwing up…"

Link smiled weakly. "Everyone does. Hopefully that was it and you'll be able to eat something this evening."

Ghirahim frowned, shaking his head as the nausea returned. "Nope."

Link seemed confused at first, but then began to understand what Ghirahim was implying, and he stood up, pulling the demon with him.

"Let's get you set up in the bathroom, and I'll clean this up when you're stable."

Ghirahim nodded tiredly, allowing Link to lead him down the hall towards the bathroom, his head lolling this way and that.

He was so exhausted, and… there weren't supposed to be pink spots on the ceiling, right?

* * *

Ghirahim glanced up as Link entered the room, smiling a little at the sight of a blanket in his hand.

"Oh, thank you, skychild."

Link nodded, smiling at him, and handed the blanket over. Ghirahim took it and threw it around his shoulders, surprised at how light and airy it felt.

He glanced up at Link, frowning when the hero continued to stare at him.

"Uh… can I help you?"

Link just stared at him, and Ghirahim squirmed slightly.

"Seriously, Link, knock it off! You're freakin' me out!" He doubled over, coughing into his fist from the exertion, and still the green-clad boy stared at him, his eyes sort of vacant, yet dark.

"Link, this is seriously creepy. Just go!"

"Ghirahim, what's going on in there?"

Ghirahim froze. That voice… it sounded like Link. But Link was right in front of him, so how…?

"Um… L-Link? Is that you?"

"Who _else _would it be, smarts?"

Ghirahim panicked slightly, moving away from the stationary Link before him, his eyes widening. "But you're in here!"

There was a heavy sigh, followed by footsteps and a door opening. "What's the matter, Ghirahim? I can barely understand you—are you feeling sick again?"

Ghirahim stared. There were _two _of him. How was that possible? He pointed to the first Link, and then to the one that could actually speak. "Th-there are two of you. Oh my gosh… there are two of you."

Link frowned at him, moving forward and kneeling down in front of him. "Ghirahim, what are you talking about?"

"You came in and gave me this blanket and now you're just staring at me! You're right there!" He motioned wildly to the other Link, but Link just shook his head.

"Let me feel you a sec."

Ghirahim allowed the skychild's hand to wander over his face, neck, chest, and stomach. Finally, Link stood up, holding out his hands. Ghirahim took them and got to his feet, wobbling slightly.

"I bet you're hallucinating. Um…" Link closed his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose, trying to pull together an idea. "Uhm... Okay, okay. First of all, let's get you in the living room. If you're gonna be sick, we'll use a trash can and that's that. Until you stop vomiting, I can't give you any medication for the fever, so let's just…" He rubbed his eyes, sighing. "Hold on, let me think."

Ghirahim watched him carefully, both touched and concerned. It was nice to see Link hadn't been pulling his advice out of his butt and was actually thinking about it, but it sounded like this was all rather difficult, and things usually weren't difficult unless they were dangerous.

"Okay, let's just get you to the living room and take your temperature. I'll think of something after that. One step at a time…"

He didn't wait for Ghirahim to take a step, but rather scooped the demon up in his arms, carrying him down the hall bridal style.

They got to the living room, and Link placed him on the couch gently, throwing a blanket over him and running back to his bedroom for the thermometer. Ghirahim waited for him, his stomach starting to roll again.

_Hurry up, Link!_

As if on cue, Link returned around the corner, thermometer in hand. "Here, open up."

Ghirahim shook his head. He had only vomited three times that morning, and it was already two in the afternoon, but he wasn't exactly vying for one more go at the porcelain throne. "I don't want _anything _in my mouth right now."

Link nodded slowly, realizing he wasn't trying to be difficult, but honestly in pain and afraid of throwing up again. "Well… I can try your armpit, but I have no idea how accurate it will be…"

Ghirahim nodded quickly, having forgotten if it didn't go in his mouth, there were very few other places it could go.

Link either ignored or didn't see his frazzled expression, and instead, placed the end of the thermometer underneath Ghirahim's arm, pressing it to his side. Ghirahim watched the numbers climb, biting his lip. A few moments passed, and Link removed the device, reading it.

"What? That can't be right…"

"What's wrong?" Ghirahim asked quickly, his stomach still on the fence about whether or not it was going to be sick.

"It says your temperature is 104.7. That's kind of low to be having hallucinations."

Ghirahim sighed, knowing what Link was going to suggest next and not liking it at all. But _still _his stomach churned, and he _really _didn't want to throw up again.

Link gave him an apologetic look, cleaning off the thermometer. "I'm sorry, Ghirahim, but I have to get an accurate reading, and if you won't let me use your mouth…"

Ghirahim sighed, letting his head fall back against the armrest. "I know…"

Link flushed, reaching under the blanket and past Ghirahim's hips, seizing his pants and underwear and pulling them just past Ghirahim's bottom, not wanting to see more than was necessary.

Ghirahim grinned slightly at his expression. If he was going to endure this, he had to at least enjoy himself, no?

"My, my, skychild, you look rather flustered," he sang, cocking his head to the side and giving him playful eyes.

Link glared at him. "Shut up."

"Now, is it because my butt is so much better than yours, or is it because my _front _is so much better than yours?"

Ghirahim waggled his eyebrows, busting up in hysterical laughter when Link's face turned the same shade as a tomato, his eyes the size of a dinner plate.

"Be _quiet, _Ghirahim, I'm trying to focus!"

Ghirahim could have commented further, but the laughter was starting to make him feel sick, and he really _did _want Link's help. Attempting to help he kicked the pants entirely and put one leg over the back of the couch and the other on the floor.

"Do you honestly think you can get it in their with my legs together?"

Link blushed and quickly inserted the device, looking away as soon as it was secure. Ghirahim squirmed slightly, not enjoying the sensation he was receiving whatsoever. But, he reminded himself, a worse sensation is that of one's stomach twisting and clenching to drain out ever last ounce of its contents, all the while depriving said person of breath.

Even so, he didn't like being so... exposed in front of Link. Legs spread, no pants, no boxers, and with the stupid glass and metal rod shoved up his butt. Link seemed to hate it even more than he did, though, so he kept quiet and waited for the ordeal to be over.

There was a moment of awkward silence, and then Link slid the thermometer out, reading the mercury as he wiped off the end.

"106.9. That's a little high, but it's closer. We'll go with that, and if we had to average, it's basically 105.5."

Link quickly returned Ghirahim's pants to their rightful place, pulling the drawstring that held them up and lowering Ghirahim's legs to the couch.

"Thank you… Link."

Link glanced up at him, somewhat confused. "You're welcome…"

There was yet another moment of silence, and then Ghirahim sank down into the sheets, resting his head on the pillow.

"I think… my stomach can't make up its mind. I think I'll… try to sleep."

Link nodded, rubbing his eyes. He was exhausted as well, as he had been up since Ghirahim had first gotten sick. He sat down on the chair next to Ghirahim's couch and sprawled out, his legs dangling over the armrest.

Ghirahim watched him for a moment, wondering what it was that had come over him. Certainly the skychild was being nice to him, but just a few days ago, that had infuriated him to no extent! And now… he appreciated it. He wasn't going to apologize or anything—it wasn't as if he was now Captain Marshmallow—but maybe he could do something nice for the skychild in the coming days. Maybe he wouldn't kill him after Demise took over the Surface. Maybe… maybe he wouldn't even torture him. He could make Link his slave and in return for his services, Ghirahim could see to it he had whatever he wanted, sort of like the human was doing for him now.

"Do you mind if I play a little?"

Ghirahim's snapped out of his trance, nodding his head. "Yes—I mean, no. Go ahead."

Link softly started strumming on the harp he had received from the little goddess girl when she had escaped through the Gate of Time, and Ghirahim let the soft tones pull him away from consciousness. Link began to sing softly with the music, and Ghirahim's eyelids suddenly felt like lead. He closed his eyes and let out a long sigh, awareness slipping from his grasp as sleep took its place.


	6. No Means No

**A\N: Okay! SPANKY CHAPTER! I was actually surprised that this was one of the two choices that came out at the top of the poll. But I like it, so... Not gonna complain! :D**

**I feel like Ghirahim gets OOC later on... but you be the judge of that. IDK, if I get too many negative reviews I may change it.  
**

**Next chapter will probably be the last chapter and we will have mentions YAY! :D Anyways, Enjoy!  
**

* * *

**Link's POV**

So, apparently, when demons start to get better from serious and possibly life threatening sicknesses, they decide to become about as mature as a two-year-old and cause problem after problem for the person who cared for them when they were sick. I did not know this, and I certainly didn't know Ghirahim could be that much of a pain in my butt!

For the past three days all he did was run around, tormenting the Kikwis, chasing the Parellas, and occasionally casting spells and playing tricks on _me! _Now, you would think after this crazy week of hallucinations, arguments over every little thing, carrying him through Faron, bathing him, cleaning up his vomit, and keeping him supplied with clothing, food, and water every day I would be able to handle quite a bit from him. But he had seriously struck the final straw with this latest stunt.

"Yes, Faron, I cannot express how sorry I am—"

"You made a commitment to watch him, Link," she said emotionlessly, staring me down.

"Yes, I realize that, and—"

"Which means that this event fall entirely on your shoulders."

I turned my head slightly and gave Ghirahim a vicious glare, and he actually blanched at my gaze, backing away slightly. "Yes." I kept my voice steady, glaring him even further away, his ear pointed down and his head bowed like a scolded puppy. "I know that."

There was a pause as Faron examined the scenery before her and then examined Ghirahim, who was still cowering, my eyes boring straight through him.

"Your Majesty, whatever punishment you have in mind for me, I will accept it. But please allow me to handle Ghirahim's affairs." Even though my voice maintained a respectful tone towards her, my fists were clenched at my side, and Ghirahim was probably wishing Faron was the one handing out punishment, because when I was through with him…

"Unfortunately, you are not mine to punish. If the goddess didn't have her protective seal on you, you can bet there would be a hefty price to pay. Just look at the damage!"

I surveyed the room, my eyes softening as I took in the broken domain, injured Parellas and shattered rocks and plant life everywhere. "Yes, I see it. I'm…" I changed my wording, giving my head a slight shake. "I can't apologize enough, Faron. I will fix this somehow, I promise. When I've defeated Demise, I'll bring all of my fellow villagers here and we will repair everything we can. We'll bring medicine for your wounded and anything else you desire."

Faron sighed at this, hopefully understanding the position I was in, and she waved her hand. "Very well, very well. But make sure _he_—" with this, she pointed at the white demon, "—gets his due punishment."

I turned away from her, stalking towards Ghirahim with fire in my eyes, my jaw set and my lips a firm, thing line. I could see the fear in his eyes as I approached. Perhaps once upon a time I was a weak skychild in his mind, but now my quest was almost done. I had made him beg, I had seen him naked and vulnerable, and I knew what was underneath his plastic surgery mask. And that something was something I could scare the heck out of.

"Believe me, Faron. He will not be forgetting this for a very, _very _long time."

Ghirahim's dark eyes flashed, both with anger and dread, and he slid away from me.

"Go home this instant and wait in your bedroom for me. We are going to have some _serious _words."  
Ghirahim nodded his head, muttering a soft, 'yes, Link,' and he ran out of the dragon's court, my eyes glaring into his backside as he fled.

"Serious words indeed."

* * *

When I returned to the cabin, everything was extremely silent. I walked in, letting the door slam a little so Ghirahim would know I was home and I was still not happy. Not wasting any time at all, I stormed straight back to his bedroom, a determined expression on my face.

"Master," Fi whispered softly as I approached. "If I could ask you to step away from his door for a moment, I'd like to show you something."

I sighed, following her orders and stepping away from the door. The barrier slowly began to pulse a light purple color, slightly darker than lavender, and soon the center of it had cleared up, allowing me to see through.

Ghirahim sat on his bed, his eyes in a staring contest with the floor, and his hands deciding to play a game of 'fidget nervously with everything in reach'.

"Master, I know your original intent was to use the weapon obtained in the Ancient Cistern, but perhaps a method of more… civil principals… should transpire instead."

I glanced down at the whip in my hands, chewing over the information I had just acquired. I knew that just because he was scared didn't mean he was going to be submissive or apologetic in any way, shape, or form. But at the same time… it was what the punishment achieved internally, right? It was a mental thing. As long as he learned his lesson, was it really that big of a deal whether I used a whip or my hand or a belt or a sword?

"A… alright. Fi, you wait out here."

I quickly removed all of my pouches and weapons—save a dagger in my boot, just in case—and then tried to lay out a vague idea of what I wanted to say in my head. Then, placing my hand on the door, I gave it a slight shove, letting myself in.

"Ghirahim." I kept my voice low and angry, wanting him to remain in this apprehensive state for as long as possible.

Ghirahim jumped slightly, his head snapping up and our eyes meeting. "Oh! Hi… Link."

I took a deep breath and shrugged my shoulders. "Well?"

"Well… what?" he asked, raising his eyebrows.

I let out a bitter laugh. "Well, you attacked Faron's domain in Lake Floria, well, you've been causing me problems for the past three days, well, I'm sick of cleaning up your messes, Ghirahim!" I tried to keep my voice steady as I took a few steps forward, standing now only two feet away from him. He stared at my belt buckle, and I spoke again to grab his attention.

"Ghirahim, look at me."

He raised his eyes and locked gazes with mine, the anger now ebbing away into nothing but fright and uncertainty. "Yes?"

"I am _not _doing this anymore. Do you understand me?"

He nodded solemnly. "Yes…"

"Good." I pointed to the bed. "Lay yourself over that and don't you dare move a muscle until I say you can."

He moved at first to do it, confused etched into his features, and then he seemed to understand what that sort of positioning meant. "No way!"

"Ghirahim, if you play this game the hard way, I swear, you will lose. You will lose, and you will not like it."

"I am not going to allow you to spank my like some little child!" he shouted, getting to his feet and jabbing his finger in my face. "I know the power you hold, skychild, and it may be true that your journey has matured you further than I ever thought possible, but don't think that means I'm going to be your little pet now!"

I sighed, shaking my head. He just never learns, does he?

I made my way over to the cabinet and pulled out a small bottle, placing the rim on my lips and flicking it back as the bitter fluid slid down my throat. Turning to Ghirahim, I smirked slightly, holding my fingers up. I brought them together and a soft snap echoed through the room, followed by the soft yelp of a demon lord who now found himself face down in the bedsheets and firmly chained in that position.

"I gotta hand it to Luv. She never ceases to amaze me with her potions."

"H-how did you do that?" He panicked, struggling to free his arms, neck, and chest.

"After dealing with your magic for so long, I pulled together some ingredients and asked an old friend to make a special potion." I walked over to the bed and hiked up his tunic, slipping my fingers into his waistband.

"L-Link, don't you dare!"

"Ghirahim, you are getting a spanking and there is nothing you can do about it. Just face that fact and this will all be over much quicker." Link dropped Ghirahim's pants to his knees and stepped back, unbuckling his belt slowly, drawing the moment out.

"H-how many?" the demon asked tentatively.

I paused for a moment, folding my belt over in his hand. I had a number, but did I really want him to know what it was? What if he got defiant knowing there was only 'five more' or something like that. "If you want to know, you'll have to count."

I had done the 'parental math' in my head and had arrived at fifty as a good number. I figured Ghirahim was an adult, knew what he was doing was wrong, pleasured in those wrong things, did those wrong things to an extremity that almost resulted in death, and was no longer sick enough to get the 'I'm sick, don't be mad' card.

I steadied myself and focused, reaching the hand with the belt out to tap the pale bottom in front of me, letting him know what was coming. I pulled the leather back and—  
CRACK!

Gihrahim jumped, but did not cry out.

CRACK!  
Well, that was to be expected.

CRACK!

I was perfectly fine with that.

CRACK!

He would learn his lesson eventually.

CRACK!

And if this didn't fix him…

CRACK!

…then he didn't need a spanking…

CRACK!

…he need psychological help.

CRACK!

Still with the way he was squirming…

CRACK!

I had a feeling he wouldn't last long.

CRACK!

Ten down, forty to go.

* * *

**Ghirahim's POV**

Curse that skychild! Who did he think he was putting me over a bed and spanking me like this? I was not two years old! I was a grown man and I could do what I wanted.

And it hurts, too! Who would have thought that scrawny little thing could pack such a wallop? From the first stroke, there was no sting, just pain. It hurt right away! Of course, it could have been that the potion he drank increased his strength when it gave him magic. That little devil! Copying my magic!

I felt myself giving a slight kick at stroke number fourteen, and I buried my face into the sheets, trying to block out that horrible rhythmic sound of his belt flying through the air and striking my skin.

A particularly hard blow struck, and I saw red flash over my vision. I ducked my head and braced myself for the next hit, more colors not from the room entering my sight. Black and dark purple and… oh… oh, goddess no, I wasn't going to think about that _now_, was I?

I shook my head, but it did nothing to aid me, and soon my world spiraled into an image I had not seen in a very long time.

I was hanging by my wrists in a dark room with accents of purple and red. I was a young demon, only about two hundred years old and though fully grown, considered to be a minor by my master, Demise. Blood soaked down my head, neck, and chest into the sash at my waist, and I wriggled wildly, trying in utter desperation to escape.

Yes… I remembered being here. And next comes… Ah! There it is. The sound of a whip biting into my flesh for the very first time.

"I'm s-sorry, Master! Stop it, please!"

"Silence!"

My body shuddered at his volume, and though I could feel every bite as though it were real, I couldn't quite remember my thoughts at the time.

"M-master, it hurts…" my body sobbed, hanging its head. "I'm hurting, Master, please stop!"

"You are far too weak, demon! But don't worry. After a few sessions with this, your skin will be tougher than cowhide."

The whip flew far back over Demise's head, and with a wild cry, he swung it forward.

"M—MASTER!"

I jerked at the impact of Link's belt and felt a sob break through my throat. I screwed my eyes shut, grasping the sheets in my hand, pain searing over my backside. I had forgotten what it was like to be beaten… I had forgotten how awful it was…

I bit my lip hard, but tears still managed to soak into the cotton beneath my face. Try as I might to still my shoulders and back, it was all in vain, and in just moments I found myself wailing like a child in front of the one person I hated more than the goddess herself.

And I couldn't stop.

My punishment ceased for a moment, and I felt the bed sink next to me. Glancing over my shoulder, I saw the Link had seated himself sideways on the bed, and had placed a firm hand on my lower back, raising the belt again.

I shut my eyes and grit my teeth, forcing the sobs away. Another yelp escaped me as the leather strap sang against my skin, which I could only imagine was a very dark shade of red and maybe purple.

"L-Link!" I hated my voice—it was pitiful. "Link, stop!"

"We're not done yet."

"Link!" His name came out more of a squeal than anything as the makeshift whip dipped down and struck those oh-so-sensitive sit spots. "Link, p-please…" I stuttered out, blushing at both my predicament and the measure I was taking to be out of it.

"No, Ghirahim."

"B-but—"

"That's my final answer."

I shook my head, utterly confused. "What do you want from me? What d-do you want me to say?"

"Nothing."

I gritted my teeth as another stripe was formed, confused and a little scared. Was there nothing I could say to appease him? I could always make Master stop if I promised enough things or apologized or pleaded enough. Was I really… really stuck here?"

"L-Link, I don't—"

"That's enough, Ghirahim."

"But—"

"It's time to be quiet now."

I whimpered helplessly, shoving my face back down into the cotton. Another smack hit directly on the under curve, and I let out a pathetic squeak, the sobs I had been forcing away slowly growing in my throat and returning to the stage of an all-out screaming fit.

His hand moved in slow circles on my lower back, as if he was trying to comfort me and punish me at the same time.

My voice cracked and pulled hard against the chains, trying to force myself to stop making those wretched, _weak _noises. I had to be able to do something, anything to make Link sto—

Wait. Wait it stopped.

Slowly, I turned my head to look over my shoulder, tears still streaming down my cheeks. My once pale bottom was now a deep shade of scarlet, and Link's belt was right beside it. The chains around my upper body dissolved, and I slowly pulled myself up onto the bed. I returned my pants to where they belonged, hissing as the sore skin came in contact with the

"Ghira—"

"What the heck is wrong with you?" I screamed, his voice alone igniting pure rage.

He glared at me, seizing my chin in his hand. "You deserved every lash, Ghirahim, and you know it."

I ignored his statement and slapped his hand away. "Don't you ever touch me like that again, Link!" My vision blurred, and I blinked away the tears that threatened to spill over.

He gave me an odd look, reaching his hand towards my face. "Why are you so upset?"

I flinched away from him, dashing away the water on my eyes before he could see—at least I hoped he didn't see. "Just go away and leave me alone! And never _ever _touch me like that again!"

I turned away from him and sank into the sheets, biting down on my lip until blood began to trickle down my chin.

_Stop crying, stop crying, just stop crying! Don't let him see you like—_

My thoughts screeched to a halt as Link sat down on the bed again, and I stiffened up when he touched my back, sliding his hand slowly towards my neck. I held my breath as he began to gently massage the back of my neck, murmuring softly.

"You get so angry so easily…"

I didn't say anything. I didn't know what to say. In one week—maybe a little over that—Link had seen every vulnerable aspect there was. How could he ever take me seriously again? I was always going to be some little pet to him now! And… And I had _allowed _it to happen! I didn't control myself…

"Hey, I'm gonna make dinner. Do you want something to eat?"

I shook my head wearily, rubbing my eyes.

"Ghirahim, can…" His voice trailed off as he inched towards him, his very aura emanating his fear and hesitance. "Can I hug you?"

I stared for a moment, wide-eyed, completely caught off guard by his request. "I… Yes."

Link slowly moved towards me, pulling me into a sitting position and snaking his arms around my body tightly. "You've had a rough week, huh?"

I nodded, exhaustion seeping through every inch of my body as I dropped my head to his shoulder.

"I didn't mean to affect you so badly, Ghirahim."

I tilted my head left and right into his tunic. "I deserved it…"

Link reached up and stroked my hair, tilting his face towards mine. "What made you so upset?"

I shuddered, moving closer to his warmth. If there was anything I envied of humans, it was their warmth. "I don't… I don't understand."

"What don't you understand?" he prompted me, and I felt like a teenager sitting in his arms and unable to turn my thoughts into words. I thought I finished puberty one thousand eight hundred years ago.

"I don't understand how you… you could do that to me, and… it felt… different than when he did…"

"When who did?"

I sighed, biting my lip again. "When Master did…"

Link said no more, but he didn't really need to. He got what I was trying to say, and he didn't know what to say back, but he was sorry. I could smell it on him. Dangit, I didn't need his sympathy, why—why was this so hard?

"You did a good job, Link, and… and… I'm…" I swallowed hard, struggling with the word that danced on my tongue. I knew he wanted to hear it. He had been wanting to hear it for a long time. "I'm sorry."

"I know," was all he said.

My eyes half-lidded, the grip I had on him began to slacken, and I felt consciousness leaving me.

"Go to sleep, Ghirahim. When you wake up, I'll have a nice meal on the stove. Maybe since you're feeling better, we can play a game or something."

I vaguely felt myself nod, and then the world turned dark, and I was out.

* * *

**Link's POV**

"Master, I take it those were the words you spoke of previously?"

I smiled, nodding to myself as I stroked his silky white hair. "That was it."

"Do you intend to release him now, Master?"

I gaped up at her, my eyes wide with shock. "But Fi, haven't you realized?" I returned my gaze to the demon before me, ceasing my caresses for a moment to take in the peaceful expression on his face. I started up again slowly, a smile wider than the first parting my lips at his blissful sigh. "The day he freed himself, I never chained him up again. Ghirahim is here because… he wants to be."

* * *

**A\N: BUAHAHAHAHA! Did you guys realize that? After Ghirahim escaped, Link brought him back, bathed him, and it says he 'headed off to bed'. The next day is the day he has the vomiting and he's not chained then. This whole time Ghirahim has been a free bird, he just hasn't left! XDDDDD Anyways, I hope you liked it and please leave a review!**


	7. Here We Go Again

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**The Dark Dweller, Shattered Sapphire, DemonLordOfTheSurface, Reaper-Keaton, WolfenAmphithere, Vati, hola, goddessharp, arrowriver, twinxie1OO, Mental Angel, zelda3469, daMikuofAZ, meijosui, pikachucat, dbzfan8, Breaking-Benjamin Rules, Roowbin, TheGroosenator, Navishamon, Neon Dystortion, TooLazyToLogin, DracyGiuliana, henslight, Green Gummy Bear, Catana, Triforce of Awesome, SilverFlameoftheWindscar, gwendolyndark, IchikoKitsuneKoumori, and 5SilverFingers THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH! Not ONLY have you given my 79 reviews in just six chapters, but you've also given me 31 reviewERS! You guys are amazing! I mean FABULOUS~!  
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***cookies fall from the ceiling*  
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**NOM THEM! NOM THEM NOW!  
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**And please enjoyed the last chapter. I own nothing! *bows*  
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* * *

_"M-Master, please, stop!" Ghirahim screamed, twisting beneath the fury of Demise's whip, blood streaked over his nearly naked form. "I'm s-sorry I failed you, I'll do better next time!"_

_"You're lucky if there even is a next time!" Demise bellowed, slashing the cat-o-nine tails down across his shoulders and back._

_"Hey! Leave him alone!"_

_Ghirahim sniffed, looking over his shoulder at the figure standing in the doorway of the darkened chamber. He couldn't make out much of the man's profile, but he could see the sapphire blue eyes blazing with passion._

_"The only thing he's ever done is serve you faithfully, and this is how you repay him?" The man accused, stepping into the shadows._

_"Link?" Ghirahim gasped out, consciousness fading as his blood pooled on the ground beneath his dangling feet._

_Link cast him a smile and then stepped forward, pointing a finger at Demise. "You're finished messing with him, Demise. I won't let it happen anymore."_

_Demise dissolved into black dust at that moment with no farewell words or resistance, and the chains around Ghirahim's wrists melted into cool, soothing water. Link caught him as he fell, smiling down at the young demon in his arms._

_"L-Link… you look so different. You're so much older…"_

_Link chuckled. "This is a dream, Ghirahim. A dream of something you long to have someday. Someday means not now, which means I'm older."_

_"Yes, that makes—wait, a dream? I'm dreaming?"_

_Link nodded, a sort of sadness in his eyes. "Yes. And it's time to wake up now."_

_"But…but…"_

"Ghirahim! Wake up!"

Ghirahim's eyes snapped open and he shook his head vigorously. "I'm awake!"

"Come on, Ghirahim! I have the whole day planned for us, it's gonna be fabulous."

Ghirahim glared at him, throwing the sheets off and getting out of bed. "Fabulous is my word." He winced as his butt came in contact with the mattress, but he shook it off and got to his feet, stretching his arms over his head. "Alright. What's for breakfast?"

"Bacon and eggs, but we gotta eat fast. Come on!"

Ghirahim yelped as his hand was seized by the hero's and he was dragged to the kitchen.

_Oh goodness, what is he going to do _now_?_

* * *

Ghirahim grabbed another tissue and blew his nose, watching as Link shuffled the deck of cards in his hands.

"Do you think you understand now?"

Ghirahim nodded. "I think so. Let's try it."

Link dealt the cards, giving Ghirahim eleven and himself ten, and then pointing to the demon. "Now you discard one."

Ghirahim did so, and Link picked up and discarded, and Ghirahim copied him, and Link repeated, on and on in utter silence until Ghirahim threw his hand down and shouted, "Gin!"

Link blinked in surprised, leaning over and looking at his deck. He checked the cards, shaking his head slowly. "I can't believe it… you won already!"

"Let's play again," Ghirahim said, already shuffling the cards like Link had shown him.

"Alright."

The game recommenced, but in just a few moments, Ghirahim cried 'gin' again. Link demanded a rematch, but in mere seconds, Ghirahim had called gin. Again and again Ghirahim won the game, though some were longer than others.

"I think you need to teach me a new game, Link! I have mastered this one."

Link frowned. "Fine. How about… 500 Rummy?"

Ghirahim nodded eagerly. "Sounds good."

Unfortunately, that set of games turned out much like the first, as did Blackjack, Trump, and even Go Fish until finally Link threw his cards in the air.

"I give up!"

Ghirahim laughed, stroking the deck lovingly. "It seems the cards like me more than you, Link."

Link chuckled softly, shaking his head. "I'm gonna make some tea, do you want any?"

Ghirahim nodded. "Sure."

He watched as Link moved about the kitchen, smiling to himself as he thought about the wonderful day he had spent with Link. They had gone swimming, watched a movie with popcorn, played board games, climbed the massive tree in the center of Faron, and now they were going to sit down to tea and maybe read a book. He continued to think back to his dream throughout the day and how nice it would have been to have Link for a Master instead of… wait a minute. Wait a cotton-picking minute!

_What am I doing? Demise is my master, and he always will be! I was forced here against my will and stayed because I was sick and my magic was gone! I am Demon Lord Ghirahim, and I have to revive my master, Demise, not traipse around with some bratty skychild!_

Ghirahim slowly got up, moving towards the bedroom as silently as possible.

"Where are you going?"

Ghirahim whirled around, his heart jumping in his chest. "Just using the bathroom," he smiled, rubbing the back of his neck as he backed down the hall.

"Oh, okay." Link turned back to his tea and stirred in some honey, humming contently to himself.

Ghirahim waited until he was certain all suspicion was gone, and then headed into the bedroom. Once inside he locked the door and leaned back against it, holding his fingers out in front of himself. Bringing them together in a quick snap, he felt the cotton on his body dissolve into his usual skin-tight spandex. He reached up and found his hair returned to its former style. His earring and make-up was back as well.

Another snap and his fingers curled around the hilt of an onyx black rapier, a smirk twisting his lips upward. Whistling, he sauntered out of the room and down the hall to the kitchen where Link was standing with his back to the demon lord.

"Link, I have some terrible news."

"And what's that?" Link didn't sound too interested, and he didn't look over his shoulder.

"I'm afraid I can no longer stay with you."

"And why not?" Again, Link remained focused on what he was doing.

"Your screams are too delicious."

Ghirahim jumped up and lunged at Link, driving his blade down, only to hear the sound of steel against steel, the True Master's Sword clashing with his own saber. Shock registered and he backed away, eyes wide.

"I'm not quite that stupid, Ghirahim."

Ghirahim smirked, raising his blade high and swinging it down as Link jumped back onto the countertop, slashing down at his opponent from there. Ghirahim struggled to block the upper strokes, and he quickly teleported to Link's level. The two battled as equals, Ghirahim slashing low towards the boys chest and stomach while Link continued to drive continually towards his throat.

Ghirahim stepped back and ducked under a thrust, swinging his arm forwards and knocking Link to the ground in one fell swoop. Gripping his sword in both hands, he jumped from the counter and aimed his sword for Link's heart.

"AH-CHOO!"

Ghirahim stopped, crinkling his brow at the noise from Link's mouth.

Link sneezed twice more, wiping his face on his sleeve as a congested tone began to sink into his voice. "I… I guess the long day we had knocked out my immune system…"

Ghirahim watched him, confused as to what he was supposed to do. Did he leave the boy? Kill him in his weakness? Interrogate him? Then again, maybe he didn't want to. Maybe he… maybe he liked Link, alright? Maybe he was a good friend, a good boy in general. Maybe he was just trying to save his girlfriend and didn't give a darn about Demise and maybe Ghirahim just didn't want to kill him! Still… that didn't really tell him what he was to do unless…

A grin parted his lips, and he quickly obliterated his sword.

"I suppose I can't kill you just yet, can I?"

Link just sniffed, his eyes growing very tired, very quickly.

"Well, there is a simple solution to this problem. Off to bed with you, skychild." Ghirahim reclaimed his pet name for the boy, lifting him from the ground and starting back the hall.

"Ghirahim… do you even know how to… care for a sick person?" Link asked wearily, his head falling against the demon's chest.

"I'll figure it out! Now… where do you keep the collars and potions?"

Link groaned, jerking his thumb towards the cabinet in Ghirahim's room. Ghirahim laughed skipping right in and grabbing various toys.

"Oh… and where's that thermometer?"

* * *

**A\N: I know it was kind of short and the ending a little abrupt, but those questions were meant to be left hanging. Was that dream a wish or a vision? What goes down with Ghirahim in charge? Is he going to betray Demise? All of that is up to your and your minds, but this is the end, and I'm not doing a sequel-at least not anytime soon. Got too much other stuff going on! But thank you for reading and please leave a review on your way out! Thanks! ^^ God Bless!**


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